


Blackmailed

by Kete (Kete_hlin94)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adult Hermione Granger, Blackmail, F/M, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Kinda..., Minor Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Mystery, POV Hermione Granger, Porn With Plot, dramione - Freeform, kinky draco malfoy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:48:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 20,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28203384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kete_hlin94/pseuds/Kete
Summary: Hermione gets a phonecall from a mysterious man asking her to do him a favour: entice and marry a man that has something he wants. Her parents threatened she accepts only to find out the man she has to trick is Draco Malfoy.- Kete
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 29
Kudos: 65





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This first chapter is a lot shorter than the next ones :)

Chapter 1  
The Phone call

Hermione pushed the papers on her desk around, trying to find her cellphone. The ringing continued, each trill making her more frantic. Annoyed with herself and the clutter she finally lifted a stack of open files behind her laptop and snatched it up.

“Hello?” She said, then repeated after a moment of silence. “Who is this?” She was just about to assume it was a butt-dial and hang up, something that happened more frequently than one might expect, there was a rustle and a distorted voice.

“Miss Granger.”

Hermione hesitated. “Yes?”

“I’m calling with a proposition for you.”

“What for?” She furrowed her brows, what could a muggle be proposing for her? Without even introducing himself first, or the company he worked for. Which was the most common reason someone called her. The only other people she knew with a cell phone (and her specific number for that matter) were Harry, Ron, Ginny, and her parents.

“Monica and Wendell Wilkins, currently living in Melbourne Australia,” the man on the phone said and Hermione’s breath caught in her throat. “Both working dentists. Suspiciously enough moved to Australia only eight years ago. Funny, almost a year before the Battle at Hogwarts.”

“Who are you?” Hermione demanded, holding tightly onto the arm of her desk chair.

“You’re not asking the right question, miss Granger.”

She grit her teeth. “What do you want?”

“That’s better. But before I get to that I want to make sure we understand each other. I have something I want you to do for me and if you don’t-”

“Your intentions are very clear. Get to the point.”

“Tut tut tut, so bossy,” he sighed dramatically. “Fine. I want you to befriend, entice, and eventually marry a man of particular interest to me. He has,” here the man paused. “valuable artefacts I wish to acquire.”

Hermione scoffed. “Let me guess, these valuables are money?”

“Please, you wound me, I am above such petty things.”

Hermione rolled her eyes, this man obviously thought too highly of himself. “Why on earth would I agree to trick someone into marrying me only so you can steal from him? What would that accomplish? Why don’t you just hire a thief?”

“My dear miss Granger, I thought you were smarter than this. You’re disappointing me, and I had heard so many great things…”

Hermione stood up from her chair to walk around her office trying to think of a way out of this. Could she retract her parents somehow? Save them? No, he probably had someone watching them, or was watching them himself. It probably wasn’t safe but she needed proof that they were actually in danger before agreeing to anything. Now, the second most important was finding out who her blackmailer was. His voice was distorted but he most definitely had a British accent, although she couldn’t really specify what region because of the distortion. But he must be a muggle or muggleborn, maybe a half-blood to have extensive knowledge of cellphones and even acquiring her number. She doubted anyone just gave it to him, but she supposed anyone could find it if they wanted. Was her name in the phone book? She would have to check.

“Try not to hurt my intelligence next time,” he said. “It’s disappointing that you think so low of me, as if I hadn’t checked every other route possible. No, the… valuables I want are heavily guarded and in an impenetrable way except one. Well that’s not true, except two but I’m not much for murder myself. I’m not much for physical violence. But battles of wit are my thing.”

“Why me?” Hermione asked. “You could have gotten anyone, and probably a lot more people easier to convince and not in need of blackmail.”

The man chuckled. “Oh my dear miss Granger, that is exactly why I chose you, among other things. But come, that’s a conversation for another time. When are you going to ask for confirmation on your parent’s current… climate?”

Hermione pursed her lips.

“I’m sure that’s the next question on the agenda isn’t it? Proof.”

She kept silent, annoyed by his gall, annoyed by how he seemed to know what she was going to do, how she thought. Did she know this person? Certainly not, but maybe he knew her.

“Well, no need to worry your pretty little head over that. It’s no bluff. I have them on 24-hour surveillance, any contact you have with them will be monitored and anything outside the norm will not be tolerated. Fail, or refuse, you will most definitely regret it.”

“I don’t see where your proof is in that speech.”

“You are exasperating,” he said with a sigh. “Fine. Check your email. There is a very creepy picture of your parents through some trees. It’s quite unsavory if I do say so myself.”

Hermione checked her email on her computer, sure enough there was a picture of her parents tending their garden. She could call someone. Kingsley maybe? Get someone on their side to watch them, see if this blackmailer showed up and they could catch him. Lay a trap maybe?

“I can practically hear the wheels turning in that brilliant head of yours Miss Granger, but trust me when I say, there is no way out of this for you. I’ve made certain of that. You will get me what I want and I will let your parents go free once you do. That is the deal. Do you agree to the terms?”

Hermione nibbled her lip. This man knew about magic, he knew about the Battle so he had to be magical. A wizard most likely, perhaps a squib? Maybe not, but she couldn’t rule that out. How could she agree to this? It was ridiculous.

“Why do I have to marry him?”

There was a pause. “The valuables are protected by blood wards miss Granger. I’m sure you can figure that one out yourself.”

Hermione closed her eyes. His words coming back to her: I’m not much for murder myself. Blood wards could be activated by the person in question and accessed by any blood relatives, or significant other. So either he would have to maim the person in question and use his blood to get to his treasure, or, the less messy way- have someone on the inside that could work the blood wards.

“Do we have a deal miss Granger?”

Hermione took a breath. “Yes.” Her stomach clenched, was she actually doing this? She couldn’t risk her parents, not again, not after everything. How hard could it be anyway? Oh Merlin help her.

“That’s what I wanted to hear.”

“Who is it?” Hermione rushed out. “Who are you forcing me to rob?”

“I will contact you again, miss Granger. With further instructions and to keep tabs on our deal. Good luck and make sure not to disappoint me.”

“Who is it?” Hermione almost yelled, feeling nervous at his stalling.

“Draco Malfoy.”

The line went dead.

Her phone hit the floor.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2  
A Confidant

"This is ridiculous. It's stupid!"

After gathering her wits once more after that phone call, Hermione - not trusting her phone - went to her floo and to visit Ginny. She needed someone to talk to about this. And in any case, the mystery man hadn't banned her from sharing. So, after rambling to Ginny she made that exclamation, flopping down onto the too-soft and almost lumpy mattress in the bedroom.

"What are you gonna do?" Ginny asked.

"What do you mean? I said yes, didn't I?"

"Yeah but you can't possibly go through with it. Hermione, this is Malfoy! Not to mention you'd be committing a crime. You!"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Let me remind you that I have broken a bunch of rules in my life and broken laws-"

"Death Eater laws at the time-"

"I'm not some swot, goody-two-shoes okay?"

"I'm not saying that Hermione, but are you saying you're okay with this?"

"Of course I'm not okay with it I'm just saying..." she sighed. "Actually, I have no idea what I'm saying and I have no clue what I'm going to do. He's going to contact me again and if I don't do this... who knows what he will do to my parents?" She shook her head. "I can't really take that chance."

"But... it's Malfoy. That could take years," Ginny said.

"Thank you for that vote of confidence. Am I that hard to like?"

"Of course not Hermione, but Malfoy... he's more stubborn than you and he hated you back in school."

"People change," Hermione said uncertainly. "I'm sure he took that into account, I mean our dislike of each other is fairly well-known. Ginny, what will I do if I fail?"

She shook her head. "I have no idea. Maybe he has some kind of back-up plan?"

"So, either I manage to marry Malfoy, or else he hurts my parents somehow. And if I don't, he'll hurt my parents and Malfoy to get what he wants... Ugh." Hermione buried her face in her hands.

Ginny rubbed the other's back. "We'll figure out something. And in any case, I'll help you through everything. Whatever you need I'll be here alright?"

Hermione nodded, face still covered. There was a tap on the window, a tawny owl perched on the windowsill just outside with a letter in her beak. Ginny stood and fetched it, paying the owl for its trouble.

"It's a rental," Ginny said, sitting back down and looking at the letter. "Addressed to you."

Hermione took the letter hesitantly, trying to see something that might clue her to the identity of her blackmailer. Unfortunately, her name on the front was written on a computer and printed on the paper. As she opened it, her suspicions were confirmed, the whole letter was typed up in a computer.

"What does it say?" Ginny asked.

"Miss Granger," Hermione began, clearing her throat to steady her own nerves. "Tomorrow's the day. Seize the opportunity and be at 93 Charing Cross Road, inside The Cambridge at 17:30 precisely. Order a drink and stay at the bar. Do not attempt to leave before the target has arrived and if you leave alone there will be consequences." She shook her head. "Ginny, I can't do this."

"I don't think you can back out safely now. Look, we can probably figure this out between the two of us. You need to go tomorrow." Ginny grasped her hands. "I'm here for you through this."

"I don't know. I just don't know. I feel like I need to talk to more people, like Harry... but..."

"But you know he'll freak out and not only ban you from doing this and effectively endangering your parents, but he would also constantly badger you about it and want to know everything. We both remember how obsessed with Malfoy he was in sixth year, we don't need that again. At least, not yet."

Hermione smiled. "You read my mind, Gin."

"If this gets out of hand we can tell him."

"And if by some chance, we can't figure this out and I get in too deep?"

"Then we go to Harry and every other auror we know for help."

"Right," Hermione said, looking back at the letter in her hand, feeling dread weigh it down.

"When you say get in too deep, you mean...?"

"I mean if I start to break down from stress and guilt because I'm going to be tricking someone that has always hated me into liking me, and all the while know that some mad-man is after him or at least his fortune." She folded the letter back carefully and held on tight, creases forming on the paper. "I think I should get going, before Harry gets home."

Ginny nodded. "Probably best. Keep me updated alright? If he sends you anything else, you tell me. You're not alone in this."

"Thanks Gin." They hugged for longer than usual and then Hermione floo'd back home.

Once home, Hermione read and reread the letter over and over, staring at the last words she hadn't read aloud to Ginny. At the end of the letter were the words:

Flirt.  
Don't disappoint me.

Hermione dragged herself to her bathroom, her feet heavy and barely lifting on the way. Weighed down by the moral dilemma in her mind. Numbly she turned the knob and warm water streamed into her bathtub. Routinely she put the bath bomb in when it was almost full. She peeled off her clothing and hung it on the hook on the back of the door, locking it despite living alone simply out of habit. Touching her hand to the water first and next with a toe she leisurely sank down into the almost steaming water. Trying very hard to relax, consciously thinking of calm oceans, relaxing sounds, and anything to get her mind off all of it. But every other minute the image of a serene beach at sunset would fade and images of her parents being tortured or hurt appeared in their stead. At last, Hermione gave up and accepted it. She would do it. She would try to get to know Malfoy, try to flirt. Merlin, she wasn't even sure if she knew how. Ron had said that her flirting was stilted. But wasn't that just her? She couldn't imagine ever being comfortable with flirting or feeling casual while trying to tell someone you like them without actually saying it. She had never been much for the tip-toeing dance of social convention.

Her mind made up she pushed herself up to drain the water from the tub, watching it all swirl into the drain before turning on her shower and starting on cleaning her hair. If she was really going to do this she needed some sort of plan. Mostly just to ease her mind. Experience had taught her over and over that planning was usually pointless. Especially with so many variables. Everything else could be predictable and easy to plan but when it came to other people, they could be so unpredictable. She had no idea what to expect from Malfoy. Not having even seen him much since the battle she wasn't completely sure if he had changed at all. The Daily Prophet had made a few articles about his goings on after the war, just like with her life and pretty much everyone else's. He had spent maybe a week or two in Azkaban after the battle until the Wizengamot could decide what to do with him and then he got on probation, or house arrest. At some point, she recalled seeing a picture of him on the front of the paper when his father died and he had taken over his role as head of the family and even followed in his footsteps, inheriting the Malfoy Apothecary business and keeping it running.

Turning the water off and fetching a towel she decided to look it up, do some research. After drying off she grabbed baggy pyjama pants and a robe over, snuggling in her large armchair where she usually read, but this time she had a stack of old copies of the Prophet. Coming in handy that she kept forgetting to throw them out. She kept a notebook tucked in the cushion and wrote in it if she found something interesting. Noting the day it was published and how it could be relevant. At around 3am, Hermione felt thoroughly dirty again despite the shower. Snooping into another person's life like this didn't feel right. Finally setting everything aside and getting to bed she was still awake at 5am. Dozing off here and there but always waking up again she finally got up when the clock read 11:30. Not wanting to sleep until noon she got up and ready. Although she didn't have to physically show up at work today she would anyway, to have something to do until five. Maybe distract herself.

Soon she hit a snag though, opening her wardrobe she couldn't decide what to wear. The word 'flirt' jumping around the walls of her thoughts, irking her. She didn't feel very sexy, sleep deprived maybe, but not sexy. None of her clothes were very sexy in any case. Sure, she had a few pencil skirts but hardly ever wore them. They weren't very practical nor the professional look she aimed for at work. A dress might be too much. She did own a few, but they were really fancy. Dresses she had worn at Ministry gatherings and banquets. Sighing she pulled on her favourite jeans and a shirt, then sent Ginny a message on her phone, asking for advice. Her reply was to go shopping after noon and before five. So, Hermione grabbed an apple before flooing to work.

The comfortable thing about the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures was you could do most of your work from home. She didn't have to go to her office every day. She didn't have to push through the crowds of people coming out of the fireplaces at the Ministry in the mornings during the most foot-traffic. Unless there was a special case, something that needed immediate seeing to, she could just stay at home in her comfy little study, doing things at her own pace.

Hermione greeted her co-workers on her way to her booth. Although she didn't exactly have her own office, it was secluded, small but private in a way. Everything was as she had left it but because she was feeling paranoid she checked all the drawers on her desk. Nothing out of the ordinary. She finished off some paperwork until she had to meet Ginny. Time flew away from her though and by no time Ginny had come to her office to pick her up. They made their way to Diagon Alley to do some shopping. Because the place she was going to was just outside the Leaky Cauldron at the muggle side it would be a short distance to go after their shopping trip.

Hermione didn't know what she would do without Ginny. The girl somehow managed to be up-beat and positive throughout everything. Hermione couldn't see one piece of clothing that interested her in the shops they entered, but Ginny could find ten dresses, four skirts and six tops for Hermione to try on. Despite her negativity, and overall sullen mood, Hermione did manage to enjoy herself a little bit whenever Ginny made her laugh and snuck in some ridiculous garment here and there for them to laugh at. In the end GInny had somehow influenced her to buy a cocktail dress, something she never would have bought on her own. Blue and flowing, reminiscent of her periwinkle dress from fourth year. The dress wasn't revealing exactly, but it definitely accommodated her cleavage more than she was used to. Thankfully though, Ginny had been very understanding of Hermione's comfort zone, never taking anything strapless or open-backed or split at the front.

Five o'clock came around in a flash and Hermione was allowed to walk out of the store in the dress and some new shoes Ginny had picked out for her. The heels clicked on the cobblestones as they made their way back to the Leaky Cauldron. Ginny took Hermione's clothes and promised to give them back to her tomorrow when she came over. Not to mention she let Hermione borrow her purse, it was small and cute, holding her phone, keys and lipstick that Ginny also recommended she buy. Where would she be without her?

Going their separate ways, Hermione went out to the streets of muggle London and walked confidently down the road towards the Cambridge. The outside of the building was fancy, gold letters on black walls, a message board with the menu and wine list out front. It looked too fancy for her to just walk in without any reservation or anything. So, holding tightly to the strap of her purse she stepped in and immediately asked the first waiter she saw about the restroom, quickly saying that her date would be here any second and she hadn't had time to touch up her make-up. The waiter was very sympathetic and walked her to the door to the restroom and wished her good luck.

Fishing some hairpins out of her bad, or Ginny's, she tried to tame her hair, pulling the front and fastening it in the back. Next up was the lipstick. Ripping off the plastic wrapped around it she popped off the lid and screwed it up. It was very red. Steeling her nerves she applied it, hearing Ginny's forceful voice in her head that it would look good. Hermione looked at her reflection in the mirror and felt like she was lying to herself. This wasn't her. The woman in the mirror, standing there with her hair back, red lipstick and blue dress. This was someone she had never been. A girl that went to bars, that dated, that flirted with men. It wasn't her scene, she didn't feel comfortable. It saddened her to feel so out of place. She envied the girls who could do this with such confidence.

She went back out and the clock on the wall above the bar read 17:20. She couldn't back out now. So, going up to the bar she asked for a glass of water first, but then afraid that might not be good enough for his demand of "ordering a drink" she settled for a pint of beer.

Hermione waited.

17:30 came and went.

She sat on the bar stool holding her half-finished glass of beer, her second, watching the entrance every three minutes.

At ten minutes past six Hermione wondered if this had only been a test to see if she would do what he asked. Irritated she finished her drink and slammed it on the table. Effectively jolting a young couple beside her. She mumbled a quiet apology before waving the barkeep over so she could pay for her drinks.

Just as she handed him the muggle money for her drinks a door to her left was opened and three men clad in suits stepped out of a private room, escorted by a waiter. One of them was Draco Malfoy. His suit crease-free and immaculately neat he was the epitome of debonair. Standing tall with his back straight he spoke with the other two men before they departed. Hermione felt frozen in place, then hurriedly shook it off, flagging the bartender back to her.

"Actually," she said. "I think I'll have one more."

Daring a glance back to where Malfoy had been she saw that he was now coming to the bar. She quickly turned forward just as the bartender put the glass down in front of her. The mounting nerves in her stomach taking over, she grabbed it and gulped down three large sips for liquid courage.

"Rob," Malfoy said, waving to the bartender in front of her, leaning over the counter to her immediate left. Standing so close to her she could smell his cologne. "Remember to send the check straight to Frank." He handed the bartender a slip of paper, a banknote. "You have my appointment for next week?"

"Yes, Mr Malfoy."

"Good man."

"Cheers," Rob the bartender said and Malfoy nodded his head.

Frantic, thinking that she had to get his attention somehow or this would all be pointless, she quickly waved, trying to seem nonchalant while doing it too, and forced her voice to be calm and casual.

"Sorry," she said to the bartender. "How much is this again?" Hermione couldn't hear his answer though because she was acutely aware that Malfoy had seen her and was now staring. "Thank you."

Why wasn't he saying anything? Hermione sipped her beer, staring straight ahead, not daring to move or breathe really with him standing right there and still staring at her. Was he waiting for her to notice him? Waiting for her to make the first move? Damn him. At last she looked toward him, and making as if she had only been casually looking to the side did a double take.

"Malfoy?" She hoped her acting wasn't as bad as it sounded to her own ears.

"Granger," he acknowledged, and Hermione clearly saw him look her up and down. "Long time no see."

She nodded. "What are you doing here?"

"I do business here once in a while."

"In muggle London?"

He smirked and for a moment his face transformed back into the sixteen-year-old boy that used to taunt her and her friends on a daily basis. "Muggle customers."

"Oh." Feeling awkward she took another sip from her beer, glad that she had ordered a new one so she would have something to do with her hands.

"What are you up to now? Still saving the world with Potter?"

Hermione smiled. "No, not exactly. I work in the department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures at the Ministry."

"Oh right. I remember your free the house-elves epidemic back at school. Spit or stew, was it?"

Hermione pursed her lips, her fingers tightening on the glass. "It was S.P.E.W." She really did try to keep the irritation in her voice minimal. "But yes, it's that kind of work, though not exactly."

He nodded. "Can't imagine you knit many hats when you go to work."

She paused, pushing down the ire in her belly. "No."

"May I sit?" He sat down before she could answer and gestured to Rob who in no time at all handed him a glass of what looked like brandy. All without uttering a word, he must come here often.

Hermione supposed she should try to keep the conversation going. "What about you?"

"I'm overseeing my family's apothecary business. Mostly trades and sales. We've expanded though into the muggle world and have more to offer than just wine.

"I didn't know your business involved wine."

"Yes, my family has been making wine for centuries. That's why it's so sought after, because it's old and valuable." He waved his hand dismissively. "Or some shite like that. I'm not much for that so I extended it to potion making as well, one of my expertise."

Hermione nodded. "Right." Remembering that he had one of the highest marks in potions, always a bit higher than her of course, although she had always thought that was because of Snape's favouritism.

"So, what are you doing now?"

"I already told you," Hermione began.

"No, no, I mean here. Why are you here, now?" Malfoy asked.

"Oh," she said and hesitated. "Well," she started slowly, gathering her thoughts. "I was supposed to meet someone for a date but..." she looked around for effect. "It seems I have been stood up." A decisive nod of her head and then a big gulp of her beer sold it.

He chuckled. Man it was weird sitting next to Draco Malfoy at a bar and hearing him laugh casually at something she said. Not at her, but with her. So strange.

"His loss, I'm sure," Malfoy said before downing his drink.

Hermione simply nodded, unsure what to do now or say. Some inkling at the back of her head reminded her of the word 'flirt', and she realised that what he had just said was a flirtatious line. She should flirt back somehow. First, she needed to figure out how. Malfoy gestured to his glass for a refill and got it.

"Long day?" Hermione asked.

He shrugged. "No longer than most." He took a generous swig of his drink, sucked air through his teeth before setting the tumbler back down. "But talking to people all day can take its toll. Especially if those people are idiots."

Hermione laughed, it was forced yes, but the sentiment was genuine to an extent. That was still an arrogant thing to say and disrespectful in her opinion. But that wasn't something she should say now.

"Luckily I don't interact with people a lot in my line of work. It's mostly paperwork at the moment for me."

"Lucky you," he said.

"Yes, lucky me." Hermione deliberately kept his gaze for a few more seconds than she should have and then sipped from her beer, keeping eye-contact before she had to lean her head back. She hoped that she wasn't horrible at this flirting thing. It felt like the right thing to do.

"Actually," Malfoy said after taking another swig of his drink. "I was heading out."

"Oh," she said. Thinking that she had ruined this with her "stilted flirting." Maybe she should get advice from Ginny. Not that she had a lot of experience with flirting either. "Alright, well I didn't mean to keep you I was-" she started rambling but he cut her off.

"Would you like to join me?"

"W-what?" Hermione was so shocked. Was he... no... yes? But what did that mean though? Was there some social subtext that she didn't know about? Maybe, laced into that question, there was a proposal for sex, or a date. Maybe he just wanted to catch up and it was completely innocent. She really needed to get help from someone with experience in this.

His smirk was back. "Would you like to get out of here?"

Hermione, swallowing the lump in her throat managed to croak out a yes before swallowing the rest of her beer. As she stood and reached her hand in her purse he held out his to stop her.

"No, no, it's on me. Rob," he said to the bartender. "Put it on my tab."

"Yes, Mr Malfoy."

"You really don't have to do that, I can pay for my own drinks."

"I never said you couldn't."

They exited the place side by side and walked along the sidewalk. Hermione had no idea where they were going and felt the nerves taking hold of her entire being. She felt her legs stiffen up, the cold air outside not helping. Each step was excruciating and not because of her heels (though they did feel uncomfortably tight), but because of her overthinking. Where was he taking her? What would he do once they got there? Could she even trust him? What had she been thinking?

Without noticing, he steered her into an alley between two buildings and held out his hand. Hermione jolted from her thoughts, her wide eyes scanning her surroundings, feeling very much like a trapped animal.

Again, he chuckled. "Side-along apparition," was all he said, moving his hand again in front of her for her to take.

Merlin help me, she thought before taking his hand. The air sucked and pulled around them and they were gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of an exposition-y chapter, but I hope it was interesting nonetheless. A lot of things needed to be established about where we are in this world and where Hermione is in her life.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 Misunderstandings

"Would you like a drink?"

Hermione watched Malfoy saunter to a very fancy looking cupboard in what looked to be an office. Jeez, what was she doing? She had willingly gone with Malfoy somewhere, most likely his home, and no one knew she was there. What if he tried to kill her?  
Okay, Hermione, calm down. You're freaking out over nothing.

Malfoy came back with two tumblers with a smidge of amber liquid in the bottom, although Hermione couldn't remember agreeing to a drink, she took the glass from him anyway.

"Thank you. I was actually wondering if-"

Malfoy's hand touched her cheek and his lips were suddenly on hers. Hermione froze. Until his tongue tried to caress her lip. She dropped her glass to the floor and pushed him off, hard. A horrible clenching in her gut told her she could puke, a clear sign she did not want to be kissing this man. She really really didn't want to be kissed by Draco Malfoy.

"What are you doing?" She yelled at him.

"I would think you'd know what kissing is."

"That's not what I meant," Hermione said, looking at him. She wiped her mouth on her arm, she couldn't help it. Her mouth was buzzing and felt... wrong somehow. "Why did you do that?"

"What do you mean why?"

Hermione waved her hands out, gesturing she was pretty clueless.

"You gave me the look," he said.

"What look?"

"The look!" Malfoy set his glass down and waved his arm in her direction. "The 'I-don't-care-about-the-past-let's-fuck' look!"

Hermione's eyes widened. "I certainly did NOT give you that look!"

"Then what was all that flirting about?"

"I..." Hermione couldn't really answer that. She had been flirting with him, though hadn't realised this would be the outcome. "That doesn't mean I wanted to come here and... and... do that!"

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Come on, Granger. You can't tell me you didn't know what I meant by 'get out of here.' It's very common slang for sex."

"Well... then... I don't go out much so I guess I wouldn't know."

"Apparently not." Malfoy paused, looking at her. "So you... don't want to have sex with me?"

Hermione shook her head firmly. "No. Definitely not." Then she thought better of it. Wasn't that part of it? Or wouldn't it be? She had been blackmailed to marry Malfoy... how would she get away with that without physical contact?

"Wow, that's... actually really bruising my ego right now." Malfoy picked up his drink again and downed it. "Although, maybe this is a sign. Yeah, lay off the women for a bit." He nodded to himself. Then flicked his wand and Hermione's glass flung itself from the floor onto the desk and the mess was cleaned up.

Hermione rubbed at her arm. This really wasn't going very well.

"You're sure?" Malfoy asked, looking at her with a confused expression.

She couldn't help but laugh at him. "Yes, I'm sure." Hermione sighed. "Sorry, I didn't mean to sound so..."

"No no," Malfoy said, waving her off. "It's fine. I've said worse to you."

Hermione nodded. "That you have." She moved over to a chaise and sat down. "What am I doing?" She leaned her head down onto her hands. Gods she could just die right now from humiliation. There was no way she could do this and no way to keep her parents safe without doing it. But she loathed the man... or at least had a hard time leaving the past in the past.

"No need to break down in my house Granger," Malfoy said, his hand appeared in front of her holding a new glass with more alcohol in it. "It doesn't suit you."

Hermione scoffed but took the glass all the same. "And you know what suits me?" She took a sip, it burned her tongue and throat. Firewhisky. The aftertaste was nice though.

He shrugged and leaned against a bookcase she hadn't noticed in the dark room. "I make it my business to read people. I'm good at that you see. But obviously, you seem to be the exception."

"Nice to know I can still best you."

Now Malfoy scoffed into his glass. "Hardly," he said, before drinking from it. He then stared at the half-empty glass for a bit, tilting it to one side and then the other. "I'm sorry about kissing you, I thought-"

"I know," Hermione said quickly. Hearing him apologise was uncomfortable and somehow so wrong to her. "It's alright, I know I probably lead you on."

"Probably?"

"Okay, fine. I did lead you on, unwittingly."

"Unwittingly," Malfoy agreed with a smirk and downed his drink.

After a bout of silence Hermione stood up. "I should..."

"Yeah," Malfoy agreed, straightening up.

Hermione looked at him, really looked into his eyes and couldn't get herself to take the step. It was morally wrong to trick Malfoy into liking her so she could save her parents. It was morally right to leave now and try to find a loophole instead. But, although he didn't show her the same malice he used to, he had always been mean. Not only to her but to a lot of people. Obviously to her blackmailer and probably countless others. But who was she to decide how he should pay for his actions? It wasn't theirs to decide. Despite that, she couldn't leave. There was nothing in this entire world she cared more about than her parents.

"Has it really happened that often?" Hermione heard herself say, her tongue taking over while she fought a moral battle with herself.

Malfoy chuckled. "More often than you would think."

"And... what?"

He raised an eyebrow. "You want a play-by-play of my sexual trysts?" His lips tugged up into a smirk. "My my Granger, what a naughty girl you are."

Hermione blushed crimson. "That's not... I wasn't..."

"I'm only teasing you. Unless you really do want to know."

"Well maybe not... in detail," Hermione said, abashed. "I'm just wondering how it works. I mean, do you date them or just-"

"Just," Malfoy said in answer.

"Oh."

"There isn't much interest in that, on either end mind you."

"Why not?"

Malfoy shook his head. "You really want to know?"

Hermione shrugged. "Wouldn't have asked if I didn't."

He waved his hand. "Fine, fine. The most common reason is that I'm a fantasy. I was sought after in Hogwarts but because of who I was, and my reputation, girls admired me from afar. I suppose I could say. So it's appealing now, to play out that 'fantasy', if you will, without any commitment or guilt. On their part." Malfoy lounged down into an armchair and Hermione felt herself lowering back onto the chaise as well to face him.

"That's... actually very interesting. If you look at it from the perspective of human interaction and the effects of nostalgia, how people's minds work-"

"Woah, woah, there Granger. Calm down. It's just sex." He smirked at her.

Hermione huffed. "A lot of feelings and complicated thoughts happen before, during, and after sex Malfoy. Just in case you didn't know that. Not all people are perverted creeps."

His smirk widened. "Kitty has claws," he said. "I was wondering where you'd run off to."

"What are you talking about?"

"You know, the argumentative Granger. The 'piss-off' and 'I'm always right' Granger."

"Well I am always right," Hermione said.

"Debatable."

"And you should piss off." Hermione couldn't help but smile at how ridiculous this was. She had to admit it wasn't all that bad conversing with Malfoy.

"Ahh but this is my home, so technically you're the one that would need to, as you so eloquently put it; piss off."

Hermione fiddled with the skirt of her dress. There were at least three things floating around in her head that she could say. Two would continue their little banter, but both might fall into flirtatious territory. The third would kill the mood completely and end up with her leaving, most likely not to speak with him again.

"I would Malfoy, but you're obviously enjoying my company too much. I don't want to deprive you of my wonderfulness."

Malfoy laughed. Actually threw his head back and laughed. Hermione jumped a little in her seat, surprised at his reaction.

"Obviously," he said, looking at her again.

They kept their gazes locked for what Hermione knew was too long and she had to look away, surveying the room. Now that she was looking she saw it was a study. Full bookshelves flush up against the walls, an unlit fireplace next to them, spacious enough to floo through. A desk nearer the darkened window.

"Who were you meeting?"

"What?" Hermione's gaze moved from the window to his face.

"At the Cambridge, you said you were meeting someone. Not Weasley?"

Hermione shook her head. "No not Ron." She took a deep breath and let it out. "It wasn't anyone special. He asked to meet me for drinks and I said yes. Very unlike me really."

"Why is that?"

Hermione huffed out a small laugh. "I don't really know. I'm just not comfortable going out, it's not who I am. It's not what I enjoy doing. Being surrounded by people that will turn into absolute idiots after drinking too much." She shook her head. Then stopped when she noticed the sly smile on his face. "What?"

"Nothing," he said, sitting up and placing his empty tumbler on the coffee table between them. "You're cute when you ramble. Never noticed before."

Hermione scoffed. "Please."

"It's amusing to see you rant about the idiocy of others."

"I didn't mean-"

"No, but it's more fun that way."

Malfoy flicked his wand and the fireplace started up beside them, lighting up his face and a particular red stain on his lips. Hermione laughed, having forgotten about her lipstick.

"What?"

"You have something, uhm, right here." She pointed to just above her cupid's bow.

Malfoy swiped with the back of his hand over his mouth and huffed a little. "Well what do you know, we match." He smirked. But it only grew when he looked at her face. "Uh, Granger, though I do think this might catch on as a new fashion trend, you might want to lower the... smudge area a little."

"What do you mean?" Hermione picked up her clutch, or Ginny's, and took up a compact. She gasped, her whole cheek was smudged with red lipstick and the back of her hand too. After Malfoy kissed her she had wiped her mouth. Oh, gods that was embarrassing. Hermione conjured up a cloth, wet it a little with the tip of her wand and dabbed at her face. Feeling the heat in her cheeks. She then decided to take all the lipstick off.

Malfoy chuckled and leaned back in his chair.

Mortified, Hermione got up, determined to leave this time. "I'm going to head home now."

He nodded and stood as well, waving his wand to snuff out the flames in the fireplace. "Floo powder is on the mantle."

Hermione held tightly to her purse and took a handful of powder, stepping in.

"You know, Granger," Malfoy said, standing in front of her with his arms crossed. "Despite the awkward start and all, I actually enjoyed talking with you."

Hermione thought about it. Their conversation had been pleasant enough. "Me too, Malfoy."

"See you around?" He asked.

Hermione nodded, then said her address, threw the floo powder down and was sucked back to her home.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 Messy Business

Hermione woke up in a cold sweat. Nightmares again. She got up and stripped her bed completely, throwing the sheets in the wash and taking an early morning shower before work. She applied the appropriate creams to her damp hair to get the frizz down. Sometime after her Hogwarts years she had realised that muggles had the best remedies for curly hair and that was why wizarding solutions really hadn’t helped much at all.

While sipping her morning coffee a couple of letters flew in through her open window. The usual copy of the Daily Prophet, a letter from Luna attached to a copy of the newest issue of her paper the Quibbler. The third letter was simply assigned to her in font, printed writing. Hermione carefully set her cup down on the table and opened the letter from her mysterious blackmailer.

Ms Granger,  
What a disappointing display. You deny Malfoy’s advances? You better be planning on making it up to me, and soon. You now have a deadline. Four weeks and you have to be married to Malfoy - and not some shotgun muggle wedding, a legal wizards binding ceremony. Four weeks. Or your parents might meet a sticky end. Don’t disappoint me again.

Fuck.

Hermione decided to work from home that day. She texted Ginny the details from the night before, not wanting to get into it in person just yet. She opened her laptop and went through the research she had been sent, some people had gone out into the field to speak to the giants near Italy and had reported back. She could totally focus on giants. And not the threat on her parents lives. Goddamnit.

Hermione quickly closed her laptop and drummed her fingers on the lid. What could she do? In her mind there were two options, keep trying with Malfoy and marry him - while aiding a criminal to get something she didn’t even know what. Or, talk to Harry and get help investigating who the blackmailer was. Why not both? Her mind whispered to her. Maybe she could get Harry to be covert, he had been a professional Auror now for many years, he should be able to handle it. This might be a terrible idea.

Harry arrived shortly after five, having finished a desk shift at the Auror office. He flopped down on her sofa, exhausted, removing his glasses so he could massage around his eyes. Hermione set down a bottle of beer on the table in front of him but remained standing. Harry glanced up at the sound and then eyed her with suspicion. “This can’t be good.”

“Why do you say that?”

“Oh come on Hermione, a bottle of beer?”

“You’re obviously tired!” She said defensive.

“And you are so tense,” he said, sitting up. “What’s the bad news?”

“I resent you reading into my physical posture that there’s bad news.”

“Aha, noted.” Harry took a sip of his beer, then sat back to look at her. “Give me the bad news.”

Hermione pursed her lips, keeping her arms crossed over her stomach. “I’m being blackmailed.”

Harry nodded. “Of course you are,” he said exasperated.

“You seem… not surprised.”

“The past few weeks have been really shitty lately at work. Although I’m not happy you’re being blackmailed, obviously and will do everything I can to help - I am also exhausted at all of the bad stuff going on out there.”

“Okay, I suppose that’s fair.” She sat down and looked at him, calming down a little because of how surprisingly non-shouty he was reacting to this.

“Also, you don’t seem afraid for your own safety, which is good I take it. Who’s being threatened?”

“My parents.”

Harry closed his eyes and sighed. “Shit.” He sat up and reached his hand out to rest on her knee. “I’m sorry Hermione. What do we have on this blackmailer?”

“Not much. The first time he called me on the phone in my office. He has knowledge of the muggle and magical world, he mentioned the battle but he emailed me and has a computer and telephone. I also received two letters, both typed on a computer and printed out.”

“Okay, so, might be a half-blood, possibly muggleborn or a squib.”

Hermione smiled a little to herself, glad she had managed to keep up with the detective brain of an auror.

“What does he want?”

“I don’t actually know,” Hermione said cautiously. “But it’s something valuable, at least to him. He said he’s not much for violence, so he needs me to ehem, befriend someone and break through blood-wards to get to whatever it is that he wants.”

Harry looked at her for a minute, obviously thinking hard. “Blood wards?”

“Yep,” she said, as nonchalantly as she could.

“Who’s blood wards?”

“Uh… it’s a man that… we know,” she said.

“Hermione, it’s kind of important for me to know all the details to actually do my job, you know that right?”

She sighed. “It’s Malfoy.”

He looked confused, disgusted, and then befuddled and then angry. Hermione retreated back into her armchair, ready for the explosion.

“For how long have you been blackmailed into marrying Malfoy?!”

“Only three days,” she said, trying to cover her face with a pillow.

“Three days, Hermione! You should have come to me immediately!”

“I’m sorry okay! I was scared I didn’t know what to do, I didn’t want you to freak out, sort of like you’re doing now.”

He shook his head. “Let me see the letters.”

“No.”

“Hermione!”

“Harry it’s embarrassing,” she said and then threw the pillow at him as she started to go towards her bedroom. “Harry James Potter don’t you dare!”

“I’m not letting you be in danger,” he said, walking into her bedroom and making a bee-line towards her dresser and somehow picking the third drawer on the left, two down and finding the letters.

“How did you?”

“I’ve known you for a very long time Hermione, and also,” he said, waving them at her. “We lived in a tent for months where I saw you stash your valuables at the same place every time. Maybe start shaking things up okay?” He walked out and back to the living room to sip his beer and read the letters.

Hermione huffed, but had to concede he was probably right. Especially if someone was watching her, changing up her habits and routines might be a good idea. She came into the living room, pouring herself a glass of wine and sat back down.

“This isn’t much to go on,” Harry admitted once she had sat down. He set the letters down and looked at her. “You need to find out what Malfoy has behind those blood wards.”

“Wait, me? Why me?”

“Because your parents are obviously in danger, I’ll contact the auror office in Australia and make sure someone keeps an eye on them for you. But in the meantime, while we don’t know anything about this guy, you’re going to have to keep doing this.”

“Keep… seducing Malfoy?”

Harry cringed. “Please don’t use the word seduce in the same sentence as Malfoy, it’s kind of gross.”

“Helpful,” she said. “How would I get him to divulge something like that?”

“I have no idea Hermione. But if you could get him to talk about the people that might want to harm him or sabotage him in some way that would be immensely helpful as well, even though I have a feeling it’s an almost never-ending list.”

“Harry,” she admonished.

“What?”

“You’re being judgemental again.”

“It’s Malfoy.”

“I mean, fair enough, but also we haven’t been around him since we were kids. We’ve grown up a lot in that time, maybe he has too.”

“Ugh Hermione, you and your bleeding heart.”

She smiled and drank more wine. “It’s why I do my job.”

“I know, and I will always admire you for it.”

“Thank you for helping me with this Harry. It’s really offputting knowing someone is watching my every move.”

He nodded, turning the beer bottle in circles while he thought. “If you could make a list of everyone you know that has been in your apartment or do your office at work that would be helpful too, and anyone you think might want to harm you. It doesn’t sound like this guy is after you, but it’s better to cover all the bases.”

“Will do.”

“Good, now I’m going to finish my beer and go home to my loving fiancé.”

“Sounds like a dream,” Hermione said.

“Careful what you wish for,” he said with a grin. She threw another pillow at him.

**

“Funny seeing you here,” Malfoy said, taking a seat next to her.

She was sat at the Cambridge, wearing her usual work wear, nothing too flashy or showy this time. He had emerged from the same side room to come join her at the bar. She clutched the glass of white wine in her hand to try to stable herself, feeling as nervous as ever around him.

“Funny indeed,” she said. “Another meeting?” She gestured to the men that were taking their leave.

“Yes, another boring one, sadly.” He waved to the bartender and was handed a drink, whisky this time.

“You said you were in the Apothacary business, how are you going about selling potions in the muggle world?” She asked and sipped her wine.

Malfoy shook his head. “Wow, straight to business. Actually we sell them as remedies, and yes we adhere to all the laws about magic and muggles. Everything is above board, no love spells, nothing harmful, just small things that muggle technology hasn’t been able to figure out so there’s been a little magical help.”

Hermione nodded. “Sounds sensible enough.”

“Why does it feel like I’m being interrogated, or interviewed for my own job?”

“Sorry,” Hermione said, sighing. Remembering the blackmailers words again: flirt. Don’t disappoint me. “Talking about work is probably the last thing you want to do at a pub straight after a meeting.”

He nodded and sipped his whisky. “I suppose I’ll take whatever conversation I can get. I suppose I shouldn’t flatter myself into thinking you came back here to see me?”

“You definitely shouldn’t flatter yourself nor should I stroke your ego.” She took a deliberate sip of her wine.

He smirked. “Ahh, but you don’t deny it.” He leaned over onto the bar, his arm just invading her personal space but not touching her. “Starved for satisfying company, Granger? I’m sure Potter and Weasley can keep you entertained but there’s only so much stupidity one can take.”

“Okay, look,” she said, turning towards him. “For some reason, I don’t hate talking to you, it’s weird and I honestly don’t like it. But if I’m going to stay here and keep talking then you need to not talk badly about my friends, whether it’s serious or joking - I will not tolerate it. Got it?”

Malfoy looked at her for a moment, holding her gaze. “Got it,” he said steadily.

“Good,” she said, not having really thought that would work or that he would stay after she lectured him. “It surprises me you’re okay with making compromises.”

“Why is that?”

“Because that means you don’t want me to leave,” she said, looking at him. “Thought you hated me.”

“I thought you hated me, and yet, here we both are.” He gestured around. “I can admit the company of a beautiful woman with wit and smarts to hold her own turn me on. Can you say the same?”

Hermione blushed and swallowed around the lump in her throat, not daring to be the first to break eye-contact from sheer stubbornness. “I can’t,” she said. “I’m not often very turned on by women.” She took his grin as an accomplishment and smiled a little before breaking the contact, turning back towards the bar and sipping her wine.

“Just admit it, Granger, you’re enjoying this. It won’t kill you to admit it.”

“It might.”

He shook his head. “Why did you come back here then? To torment me?”

She furrowed her brows. “How am I tormenting you?” He let his eyes wander down her body and back up again and she felt her cheeks warm again under his gaze. “Don’t be inappropriate.”

“I thought I was being appropriate actually,” Malfoy said. “The setting seems to suggest it, the atmosphere, the overall flirtatious banter.”

“On your end.”

“Your end too, missy, don’t think I haven’t noticed. Do you want to get out of here?”

Hermione turned to give him a stern talking to, opening her mouth to start lecturing him again on how she was not going to have sex with him, when he cut her off.

“To talk in private, it seemed to loosen your tongue and admittedly, you looked more comfortable surrounded by books than by people and alcohol.”

“Oh,” she said, hesitating. “I suppose you’re right. About the book thing.”

“Aha,” he said, downing his drink. “What’ll it be Granger?”

Hermione thought about what she was doing, the consequences, the absolute ridiculousness of hanging out with Draco-fricking-Malfoy of all people. The danger if she didn’t. Her parents.

She downed the rest of her wine, set the glass down and stood up. “Let’s go.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of smut (like… a LOT), swearing, sexual content, implications of infidelity… hope you enjoy haha

Chapter 5

Somehow Hermione found herself back in Draco Malfoy’s study, this time her legs tucked underneath her as she enjoyed sipping on fine firewhisky. They sat in silence, but they had only just stopped talking in depth about the possibilities and dangers of mixing magical potions for the muggle world. A subject they both seemed genuinely interested in, of course because it was Malfoy’s job and Hermione saw a lot of illegal potions in her line of work.

Surprisingly, Hermione felt quite at ease in her plush armchair, lightly conversing with Malfoy. It was a nice break from the stress in her life.

“What happened between you and Weasley then?” Malfoy asked, cocking an eyebrow at her. A silent dare to answer truthfully.

Hermione thought about her answer. “A lot of things,” she confessed, downed her drink and carefully placed the tumbler down on the table between them, buying herself time while the liquid burned in her throat. “We were very young when we got together, inexperienced.” She shrugged. “We stayed together for a couple years, but it faded out.”

Malfoy was looking at her, staring, his grey eyes boring into her soul. Hermione blinked and looked down. “Hmm,” was his answer and he sipped his whisky. “Did he cheat?” He glanced up to see her reaction. She kept still, but her limbs did stiffen.

“Can I get a top up?” She asked as casually as she could.

Malfoy nodded and got up, picking up her glass. She glanced at his back as he filled their glasses, wondering what had brought that question on. He had removed his jacket and was standing in an impeccable shirt, his tie discarded on the armrest of the sofa. She watched his movements, slow, schooled, calm. He turned round and she didn’t even attempt to pretend she hadn’t been looking. He walked over and handed her her drink, tilting his head to the side in slight question. She took the glass and their fingers touched. She pretended like the hair didn’t rise on her arms when it happened and took a quick sip.

“How often do you have someone in here then?” Hermione asked when he was a safe distance away, settling back down on the sofa opposite her.

Malfoy grinned, “You mean for a nightcap and a conversation or something else?” He watched her blush and chuckled. “Not often. You get the special treatment Granger.”

Her brows furrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He shrugged. “I’m good at reading people, and amazingly I know you feel at home surrounded by books. So I thought you would be more at ease here than anywhere else.”

“Do you do a lot of this seducing thing?”

“No, as I said last time they usually try to seduce me,” Malfoy said, uncuffing his sleeve and rolling it up just above his wrists. Then leant back with his arm leaning on the back of the sofa. “How often did Weasley seduce you then?”

Hermione couldn’t help but scoff. “He wasn’t much of a seduction type. But neither was I.”

“You haven’t been seduced before Granger?” He said with a mischievous grin.

Hermione shook her head. “Don’t.”

He chuckled. “Fine, fine.” He raised his hand and then leant over the table to take his glass and he made eye contact with her. “But I’m sure you’re curious.”

She pursed her lips.

“You don’t like not knowing,” he said matter of factly.

“And you know what I like, do you?”

“I told you, I’m good at reading people.” Malfoy kept her eyes and then deliberately licked whisky off of his damp lip. Hermione fought every urge within her to glance down at his mouth. But she couldn’t help the swallow.

He was right, she was curious. But she was also cautious.

“I’m confused,” she confessed, setting the glass down and moving so her legs touched the floor, no longer tucked underneath her. “Why are you even interested? The last I knew you hated me, or were at least indifferent to me,” she amended.

“Just like people have some kind of fascination and curiosity about me, same goes for you.”

“You have a fascination with me?” She said, smiling teasingly.

“Forbidden fruit and all that, right Granger?” He said, gesturing to himself.

She laughed and shook her head. “What’s it like being so full of yourself?”

“It’s called being confident. You should try it sometime. I’m sure it would look very good on you.” He got up, walking over to her chair. He nicked his head to gesture for her to get up. Which she did, losing her balance slightly with how close he was standing and the whisky in her system. “So what will it be Granger, are you curious about what it’s like to be seduced?”

Hermione took a breath to stabilize herself, looking at him. “It’s just so weird though.” She let out a breath like a laugh.

“How often have you been asked out on a date?”

“Many times,” she said defensively.

“And how many times because you’re Hermione Granger?”

She pursed her lips. “Fine,” she said. “Show me your ‘moves’ then.”

He smirked. “Will you be able to put aside who I am?”

She shook her head. “Probably not, this is super strange.”

“Close your eyes,” he said and his voice had taken a different tone, soothing almost.

Hermione swallowed her nerves down and closer her eyes, feeling herself stiffen with nerves. She could feel his breath, smell it, smell the whisky from in front of her. He wasn’t moving, he wasn’t saying anything and she was getting more insecure by the second. Then all at once she could feel his heat, feel his presence. He was standing up against her, she jumped but stayed in place. His hand touched the outside of her right arm, softly caressing up to her shoulder. The hair was moved behind her ear. Hermione bit her lip, trying to focus on the feeling of his presence, the feeling of his warm hand against the nape of her neck. But nagging at the back of her mind was that it wasn’t just anyone, it was Draco Malfoy. And it wasn’t just any date - she was being forced to be here. She felt like she shouldn’t even be allowing this because it wouldn’t be ethically right.

“Malfoy?” She said hesitantly, her voice coming out as a whisper.

“Yes?”

She swallowed. “Do you always seduce women while they’re blindfolded?”

He laughed. “I thought if I spoke my voice would put you off.”

She smiled tentatively, keeping her eyes closed still as she was afraid of looking into his face so close. “I think it’s weirder that you’re not speaking. But at the same time-”

“You’re about to go into a rant,” he said, stopping her. “You’re thinking too much. I’m good at reading people, but Granger you are a closed book most of the time with things that are close to you. See, I could touch you here,” he said while moving his knuckles gently over her cheek. “And tell you how tempting your lips are, but then that might be too sweet. Do you like it rough and graphic, Granger? Would you like me to tell you how hard I would fuck you against that bookshelf?”

She couldn’t help the shiver that shook her spine. But she kept quiet as his hand moved to her chin, his thumb touching her bottom lip.

“Or maybe you like the chase,” he continued. “Or you prefer something more direct, someone grabbing you and kissing you before you get the chance to overwork that wonderful brain of yours.”

“Who seduces you, Malfoy?” She said, taking a daring step in their little game. There was a silence and she imagined that little smirk toying at his mouth, creating a tiny dimple in his left cheek.

“Oh I’m sure anyone could seduce me, the real question you should ask is how.” His thumb let go of her lower lip, and she felt his touch move past the nape of her neck and into her hair. “You keep worrying about who I am and who you are, but this isn’t romance Granger, it’s lust. Two very different things. Sure they can be intertwined, but between you and I?” He grabbed at her hair and her breath left her in surprise as her head tilted back. She could feel heat move throughout all of her body, flooding her cheeks in a blush and heating her chest. “I think it’s raw,” he continued, speaking right up against her parted lips, his breath ghosting across them. “Untouched, unfiltered.”

Hermione licked her lips, slowly, leaving her tongue out to linger against her lower lip. She opened her eyes to look at him and felt a rush of satisfaction as she saw his eyes focused hungrily on her lips. She took in his face, unbiased this time, took in his features without the context of their history. His skin looked softer to the touch than she would have thought before, smooth with slight dips between his eyebrows - worry lines. His once sharp features were angled now, a handsome jaw, a straight lined nose. It struck Hermione that whatever this man had looked like as a boy didn’t matter anymore, for right now, right this second he was a handsome man. Someone Hermione would probably think out of her league if she saw him at a bar. Then his eyes shot up to lock with hers and she swore she saw the grey darken to steel.

She could feel her resolve weakening, the doubts fading away. Because she never allowed herself to just let go, did she? Always thinking, always worrying. Her brain never shut up. Couldn’t it be good for her to just feel, be reckless and instinctive - impulsive.

She swallowed her nerves and decided to do a little bit of seducing herself. She trailed her eyes down from his to rest on his lips, she lightly bit her bottom lip and looked back up to see his eyes fixed down. As she released her lip she took a breath and in a deep hum, a sigh she softly said - for the first time - “Draco.”  
Hermione had never felt as powerful as she did in the moment she saw his eyes widen, saw his pupils literally dilate, watched as his throat bobbed on a swallow, and knew instantly that she had an effect on him. His breath fluttered faster against her face and she wondered how long they would be in a standstill. The thought crossed her mind that this feeling, the anticipation shivering through her bones, would always be the high point - the inevitable kiss would most likely be a let-down. Wasn’t that always the case? With Ron it had been the covert looks, the crush and the pining and hoping he would look at her the way she had wished he would. Then when the inevitable happened it had been… good. It was pleasant, but not earth shattering. So in Hermione’s mind, in her reasoning, there really would never be anything that shook her to her core, because her imagination always created something better - something so perfect and impossible to replicate.  
So rather than expect something more, some kind of explosion of betterness, she enjoyed the moment, the breaths they shared, the stare they held, the heat flowing through her body.

It was like he was waiting for something. She hesitated, wondering if it was her turn in their little game of seduction. Cautiously she dared her limbs to move, and her hands moved from her sides and up. It was like wading through water, fighting a resistance that seemed to only live within her. Her hands reached his sides, touching him for the first time, then moved inward and she hooked her nails against his hard stomach, feeling it clench underneath her touch. His exhaled breath moved across her face and she saw his eyes were tightly closed now, his hand in her hair seemed to slacken, no longer holding her head but rather gently nestling it.

Hermione pushed down all the thoughts of how weird this was, she punched down the worry, the doubt and let herself just feel - like he said - the unfiltered lust between them.

“What I want,” she said in a whisper, catching his eyes again as they opened. “Is to hear you say my name like a prayer, like I’m your only salvation.”

“Fuck,” he said, barely escaping between his lips.

“I don’t want to think, or doubt, I want to feel.” She lowered her hands and grabbed the top of his trousers, pulling him closer. “You’re right that it’s lust, I’ve never given into it like this before,” she confessed. “But for once I want to be bloody sinful.” She watched him swallow and thought about taking the plunge, throwing caution completely to the wind: “I want you to fuck me, Draco. I want to be the name slipping past your lips when you cum, I want to-”

His hand on the back of her head had found new life in pulling her towards him and their lips finally met in a searing kiss that seemed to set her whole body on fire. She took it back, fuck, nothing had ever felt so good. The anticipation was nothing compared to the feeling of his lips against hers. It was like static electricity, pulsing with their lips as they moved against each other, nipping, lightly opening, trying to find a rhythm. But when his lips parted and his tongue sought hers Hermione was a goner. She moaned and reached up to tangle her hand in the small bit of hair at the back of his head, pulling him in closer, wrapping an arm around his neck. She pushed up on her tip toes so he wouldn’t have to bend too far down to meet her and felt a fire low in her stomach that she hadn’t felt in much too long. His arm wrapped around her, they were locked in such a tight embrace Hermione was surprised neither of them was hurting. Her head felt fuzzy and dizzy and all she knew was that his mouth tasted like promises, his body felt like comfort, and her want was turning into a need fast.

He held her close, almost lifting her as they stumbled towards the wall, her back colliding with a bookcase but she couldn’t care less. Her hands were exploring his hair, sliding down his chest and stomach. She tugged the shirt out of his trousers and delved her hands underneath to touch his bare stomach. He let out a sort of groan, his stomach hardening at her touch, making her want to touch more of him so she could hear it again. Her fingers explored lower, toying with the button low on his stomach.

“Hermione,” he said in a sigh, still kissing her and she felt all of her resolve go away. With a flick his button was undone and she was pushing the fly down. “Fuck,” he said against her lips, moving to kiss her cheek and down her neck, his fingers swiftly unbuttoning her blouse. Hermione gasped for breath, a tingling sensation moving from where he kissed her neck all the way down to her toes. His lips felt like magic.

Once he had her blouse unbuttoned he opened it and touched her stomach, repeating the movements she had done on him, letting her get a taste of her own medicine - she wasn’t complaining. Her fingers moved to unbutton his shirt until she could no longer reach them when he moved his kisses down her neck and collarbone to her chest.

“You taste amazing,” he said against her skin. She let her hands move to his hair as he kissed the skin just above the lace of her bra. “Decadent, fucking glorious.”

Hermione laughed, smiling. “Is it always like this?” She asked out of sheer curiosity.

“No,” he said, pulling one of her cups down and licking her nipple immediately.

“I guess I should feel special,” she said with a light smile.

He chuckled against her, sucking and pulling her nipple before straightening up and looking at her. “If you want.” He leaned down and captured her lips again, but this time it was gentle, it was brief and Hermione felt her legs turn to jelly. He pulled away, stepping back and looking at her. His shirt was half unbuttoned, and Hermione enjoyed looking at the bit of his chest she could see. He was breathing heavily, and so was she. He shook his head, ran his hand through his hair and walked back to the sofa, taking his tumbler up and downing the rest of it.

Hermione hesitated, fixing her bra back over herself, looking at him. The heat slowly dissipating and the worry creeping back in.

“You stopped,” she said, half question and half statement.

“I had to,” he said, looking back up at her as she made to walk closer. “Talking about it is all well and good, but we both know you don’t really want me to fuck you Granger. You’d regret it. And I’d really prefer not to see that regret on your face after the passion I just saw.” He shook his head again, as if he could see it in his mind again and was trying to get rid of it.

“But,” she said, hesitating. “Wasn’t that the point?”

“Regret?” He said, raising an eyebrow at her.

“No,” she let out a slight laugh, shaking her head at him. “The fucking,” she said gesturing between them. “You’re backing out?” He shrugged. “Wow,” she said. “I never would have thought Draco Malfoy would shoot down an offer of sex. How was my first seduction then?” She started rebuttoning her shirt.

“You’re a natural,” he said, his eyes trailing her hands as they did the buttons, as if he were regretting stepping away and letting her cover up again.

“And yet you were not seduced,” she said, smiling lightly to hide her disappointment. She sat back in the armchair, looking at him.

“I didn’t say that.” He was still looking over her as if she were something for him to devour. He took his eyes off her, rubbing over his face. “Why were you at the Cambridge Granger?”

“What?” She furrowed her brows, confused about the studden change.

“I’ve never seen you there before, and suddenly you appear there twice just as my meetings finish? Looking like you didn’t want to be there in the first place. So what gives?”

“I told you, I had a date-” She began but he cut her off.

“Despite what you might think, you are an awful liar. Why were you trying to meet me?”

Hermione was speechless. “You…” She couldn’t comprehend this. He had been suspicious of her but tried to mess with her anyway. Was he pretending this whole time to have fun? “Whatever my intentions, with your suspicions you still did that.” She gestured to where they had been pushed together against the bookshelves. “Was that just something you did for fun? Toying with me like a doll?”

“No,” he said incredulous. “Don’t pretend like you aren’t using me too for something Granger, I just don’t know what you’re using me for yet.”

“I’m not using you!” She shrieked, offended. “You’re the one that invited me here and kept trying to ask me about seduction. If anything we could have just gotten to know each other normally and been-”

“Been what? Friends?” He said, standing up. “In case you haven’t noticed, you had to literally close your eyes to let me anywhere near you. You had to imagine someone else in front of you to stomach the feeling of my hand against your skin. Sure you feel comfortable here, I made sure of that didn’t I? You can pretend like I set all this up to seduce you to do whatever I wanted, but I can’t force you to feel what you feel right now Granger. So I’m going to ask you again, why did you seek me out and how did you know where I was going to be?”

She hesitated. He knew when she was lying. So instead she pursed her lips and crossed her arms. “You are despicable.”

“Answer the question,” he grit out.

“What are you insinuating?”

“That someone sent you to spy on me, possibly. Which is strange, but that must mean there’s something in it for you. I doubt they would offer you money, you don’t seem the type to care much about that. Especially considering your current field of work.”

“How dare you-”

“Maybe some kind of opportunity, or power would be more interesting for you. Is influence what you want Granger? Or to accelerate your climb through the corporate ministry ladder?”

“You’re unbelievable,” she said, standing up in a huff, putting her shoes back on. “You think I came here to do what exactly?”

“Get my money, get information, steal from me maybe,” he said with a shrug. He still hadn’t buttoned the front of his shirt and the fabric bunched up against the open fly of his trousers. “Get information on my company. There’s a lot of things I have that would be valuable and perhaps powerful in someone elses hands. What did they offer you Granger?”

“Fuck you Malfoy,” she shot at him. Grabbing her wand and apparating home.

When she landed her whole body was shaking. What on earth just happened? She looked up and saw Harry walking into the living room from the kitchen. His brows furrowed at her as if he were asking her the exact same question. Hermione had buttoned her blouse wrong, her hair was a mess and her lipstick gone completely.

“I almost slept with Malfoy.”

Harry’s mug of hot chocolate dropped and shattered on the floor.


	6. Consorting with Snakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are a lot of sexual things in this chapter, some new characters and a bit of speculation

Chapter 6 Consorting with snakes

“He’s an absolute stinking wanker!” Hermione ranted, pacing back and forth in front of Harry who sat stock still on the sofa. “He’s an asshole, a prick of the biggest proportions, I refuse - I REFUSE HARRY - to take part in this blackmailing any longer.”

“Can you sit?”

“No.” She kept on pacing. “And another thing, where does he get off? Accusing me of using him, of stealing, what an arse.”

Harry sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Hermione, that is exactly what you were doing.”

“That’s besides the point,” she said, waving her hand.

“It really is exactly the point. Look, will you stop pacing for two seconds?” Harry raised his voice and it forced her to stop. “Look at yourself, like really truly look at yourself. You said you almost slept with him so whether he’s an ass or not, there was obviously something you liked otherwise you wouldn’t have been tempted.” He raised his hand to stop her from interrupting him. “Secondly, he was right and amazingly saw right through you, so why didn’t you just come clean and ask for his help? He might be able to give us a list of possible suspects.”

Hermione scoffed. “As if he can remember everyone that dislikes him, that list is probably never ending.”

“My point being,” Harry continued, ignoring her comment. “Getting information from Malfoy might be helpful in finding whoever it is that’s blackmailing you.”

Hermione shook her head. “No. Also, how do we know it isn’t just him doing it for some sick and twisted game? He seems the type, he’s a manipulative little snake.”

“Be that as it may,” Harry ventured tentatively as she started pacing again. “I don’t think Malfoy has ever seen or used a muggle computer.”

Hermione stopped dead in her tracks. “But he probably has, Harry,” she turned to him. “His work. He sells potions as medicine and remedies to the muggle world as well as the magical world. Which means he must have a sect of his company that deal with muggles and muggle things. He must have tried it himself to see if it worked, right? So he must have used a computer. Why didn’t I ask that?”

“You think Malfoy is blackmailing you to seduce himself?”

“Well when you put it like that it sounds stupid,” Hermione said, huffing and plopping herself down on the sofa next to him. “But maybe. Maybe he’s messing with me, or getting some kind of thrill out of it.”

“Hmm, I doubt it. Seems like an awful lot of work when he could just go and ask you on a date.”

She scoffed. “You think if he asked me on a date I would have said yes? It’s such an elaborately Slytherin plan, sneaky and manipulative.”

Just then a letter flew in through the window, disposed of by an owl that didn’t stick around for payment. Hermione picked up the letter addressed to herself in typed font. She sighed and opened it to see the words:  _ Disappointing - I was enjoying the show _ . Disgust filled her veins and she handed the letter over to Harry to read.

“How could this person have been watching us if he isn’t just Malfoy? There was no one else in that room.”

Harry set the letter down, looking at it on the table as his mind worked. Hermione watched him, seeing him try to connect some invisible dots she was too angry to try to focus on.

“Weren’t the other letters instructional?” He asked. Hermione hesitated. “In the phone call he told you what to do, in the next letter he told you to flirt. This isn’t instructional. This is personal.”

“You think Malfoy isn’t the intended target?”

“I think this person is hitting two birds with one stone. They’re enjoying watching you, but not only that, they are enjoying watching you struggle to be around your childhood bully, while at the same time thinking it’s degrading for Malfoy because muggleborns are beneath him right?”

“Harry please tell me you’re going somewhere with this,” she said, getting slightly irritated.

“It’s not only a game for this person, it’s a turn on.”

Hermione wrinkled her nose. “Ew gross.”

“Yes well, welcome to my line of work,” Harry said, picking up the letter again. “Disappointing… not ‘you disappointed me’ or ‘I’m disappointed’, it’s not personal despite what he says after being personal. This note is meant to make you feel bad, but in the sense of feeling dirty. I think this person is a pureblood.”

“That is a wild jump to make Harry, a pretty big assumption for a six word long letter.”

“No think about it, this blackmailer wants not only to get something from Malfoy but also to humiliate him.”

“Thanks,” she said, deadpan.

Harry waved her off. “To a pureblood what are the two worst things that can happen to you?”

Hermione shrugged. “I don’t know, marrying a muggleborn might be one of them.”

“Right, and losing your fortune or tainting your name and reputation. So what if there is nothing behind any bloodwards? What if the thing this blackmailer really wants is to successfully trick Malfoy into marrying a muggleborn only for him to find out it was all a lie, a set up and now he looks the ultimate fool?”

Hermione opened her mouth to argue and then shut it, thinking it over. “That’s… possible. But incredibly convoluted. Also there are way too many variables. What if Malfoy wouldn’t want to date me, let alone marry me? There are too many things that could go wrong with this plan.”

“Unless,” Harry said, looking at her. “There was some kind of guarantee.”

“What does that mean?” Hermione said, seeing him get that annoying look on his face of revelation. Of realising something before she did.

“Maybe the thing that was the most certain was him wanting it?”

Hermione scoffed out a laugh. “Harry, Malfoy hasn’t been harboring some weird crush on me all these years, that doesn’t make any sense.”

“Doesn’t it?” Harry said. “Think about it, this person knows Malfoy. They must, otherwise they wouldn’t be targeting him in such a personal manner. They specifically picked you for this task, blackmailing you - if it was about humiliating him they could have gotten whomever right? So why you?”

“Anyone that went to Hogwarts would know we hated each other,” Hermione supplied. “So couldn’t you also say they were in Hogwarts around the same time as us?”

Harry waved it off. “Of course, but there were way too many people at Hogwarts, that doesn’t help us. What will help us is knowing who has been fired from Malfoy’s employ recently.”

“You think this person worked for him?”

“Definitely, and they were either fired or they still work there and harbour a very strong hatred for him.”

“These are still just speculations,” Hermione ventured.

“Yes, but my gut is saying this is the correct path of speculation, gives us a place to start.” He stood up from the sofa. “I’m going to bed, I recommend you do the same.”

Hermione nodded absently, eyeing the letter that rested on the table in front of them.

“Hey,” he said, gentler this time. “We’ll get to the bottom of this.”

Hermione smiled weakly, “Thanks Harry.” Once he left she took a deep and steadying breath, going over everything they’d said. But her mind wandered specifically to the ridiculous idea of Malfoy wanting her in the first place. She thought back to their first interaction at the Cambridge, how quickly he seemed to think she was there specifically for a shad, and how okay he was with it. 

_ “ _ _ Just like people have some kind of fascination and curiosity about me, same goes for you” _

That’s what he’d said, that he had a fascination, a curiosity. But how deep did that really go? Sure, Hermione had often thought back to her Hogwarts days and there were boys she was curious about from back then. Neville, for one, she had wondered about, even the Quidditch fanatic Oliver Wood who was quite a few years older than her. Was that all this was? Some kind of interest with knowing what it would be like to kiss them? Even if she was curious about those men specifically she didn’t see how she would go through such trouble to seduce them - how was it worth it? Malfoy had spent a lot of time just conversing with her. Had that just been a trick to lower her guard? And for what purpose, exactly, so he could take advantage?

Hermione got up, taking the letter with her upstairs and stuffing it back into the drawer Harry had found too quickly before. She made a mental note to herself to find a new hiding place for things. Just as she closed the drawer she recalled the look on his face, a flash of grey eyes widening with want. With lust.

She shook her head free of the thought, shedding her dishevelled and crinkly work clothes, the shirt she had buttoned up wrong after he opened it. If she closed her eyes she could feel his fingers pushing the fabric aside and resting his hands on her belly, teasing her. The hairs raised on her arms as a shiver coursed through her, pebbling her skin. She could feel the tingle of his lips against hers, on her neck.

_ “Is it always like this?” -”No” _

He had sounded hungry, starved. He was so closed off when they conversed, giving himself time to answer with a calculated air, nothing would ever slip out accidentally, everything was planned. But there, when they kissed, when she touched him - it was raw, it was unbridled and unfiltered.

_ “I was enjoying the show” _

Whoever her blackmailer was, he had been watching them - both of them. Harry was probably right, the blackmailer couldn’t be Malfoy. But how had they been able to watch them? The curtains on the windows had been pulled so you wouldn’t see through that, not to mention they’d have to get onto the property, which she assumed would be quite a difficult thing. Malfoy liked his privacy. The study itself was proof enough of that. Maybe she was thinking of this all wrong. She was thinking like a witch instead of a muggle. Malfoy knew she would prefer to be surrounded by books and therefore took her to the study, would her blackmailer have known the same? Did he plant cameras in the room? How long had he been planning this?

Hermione went to bed with her mind racing with thoughts and possibilities. She tried to think of people from her years in Hogwarts who might have held a dislike for her, but that only made her think all of Slytherin house could be a suspect which wasn’t helpful. But thinking about that was a lot better than focusing on the feeling of Malfoy’s hand in her hair, his breath on her face, his tongue around her nipple… fuck.

She opened her eyes and stared at the dark ceiling.

The fact of the matter was her parents could be in very real danger. She couldn’t lose sight of that.

The feel of his soft lips moving against hers had been electric.

She was basically being blackmailed into selling herself, what was she thinking? What was she doing? Why would she even agree to this?

_ “Would you like me to tell you how hard I would fuck you against that bookshelf?” _

No one had spoken to her like that before. So crude but straight to the point, no bullshit, no hesitation. Blunt. It was hot. His confidence, though annoying and arrogant, was a definite turn on. How he seemed to just take what he wanted, state and know exactly what he wanted. There was no hesitation, no indecision. Being able to shut off her brain had been such a nice reprieve, something she sorely missed now while lying in bed trying to fall asleep and not think about the sinful things he had said while standing flush up against her.

What was wrong with her? How could she lie there and think about Malfoy? She needed help, she needed therapy, she needed him to touch her. Fuck.

Maybe… maybe it would help her brain stop working so much.

Hermione bit her lip and hesitated, as if someone could see her and judge her, but she knew she was alone. So why was it such a big deal? Everyone did it. There was no harm in enjoying a fantasy was there? That was the good part, it was fantasy and not the real thing. She could fix all his annoying flaws, have him behave like a non arrogant prick.

She closed her eyes and saw his face above her, his eyes staring at her lips as she darted her tongue out. Her hand moved over her breasts, imagining it was him touching her. Her hand travelled down past her stomach and she was aching. Gods she wanted to beg for him to touch her. She heard him whispering her name against her lips, while she unbuttoned his trousers.

She touched her fingers to the slickness and moved them up where she wished he’d touched her. Behind her closed lids she could see him stop his kisses, his annoying smirk was back on his face and he guided her not against the bookshelf but to the desk, turning her around briskly and pushing her down on top of it.  _ Good girl _ , he whispered in her ear and she shivered. Gods this fantasy was so problematic but she couldn’t be doubting it now. It was just fantasy, that didn’t mean it was what she actually wanted.

His hands moved down her backside and he spanked her. She jumped but stayed in place.

_ Such a good little m- _ Nope.

Her eyes snapped open, she sighed and adjusted herself on the bed. So that’s where the line was, she definitely couldn’t think that. That was too much. She closed her eyes and started again.

He bent her over the desk, grabbing her hair and pulling her head back, leaning over her so she felt his arousal against her bum.  _ I’m going to make you scream _ he said in her ear. And she would boldly wiggle herself against him. Her thoughts skipped ahead, they were already naked, in her thoughts she could see he was fit and she could enjoy it. She imagined his hands moving over her back, grabbing her hips as he thrust inside her.

She came to the echo of fantasy-Malfoy groaning her name in pleasure as he came inside her.

* * *

Something Hermione Granger disliked greatly in her daily life was people telling her what to do. So it came as a surprise to her that in the morning as she showered she found her pleasure in fantasising about Malfoy giving her orders and her obeying it.

She was still furious with him though. And she definitely wasn’t just trying to convince herself of that because the alternative would be liking him. Which she decidedly  did not . Obviously.

Work that day was disgustingly boring. More paperwork and more worrying which meant time for her mind to wander to things she didn’t want them to. At lunch Hermione wanted nothing more than to just go home and do research, but that wasn’t on her - that was on Harry now. If her younger self could hear her now she would be laughing, Harry doing his own research? But she had faith in him. Doing nothing wasn’t Hermione’s strong suit. Letting other people do the work wasn’t something she enjoyed.

Hermione went to buy a muffin and a coffee in the cafe inside the ministry, at the counter she gave in and bought a cake slice as well - wanting a little pick me up. She grabbed her things and turned to walk to a table but bumped into someone and dropped her cup of coffee which spilled everywhere on the floor, including on her shoes.

“Sorry!” The man opposite her said, waving his wand to clean up the mess. “Let me buy you another, how about it Granger?”

The smirk above her was plastered on a familiar face she had seen sitting at the Slytherin table at Hogwarts.

“Nott?” Hermione asked hesitantly, his name floating to the forefront of her mind through a hazy fog. She had seen him around school and in classes but he had been very quiet and reserved.

He nodded. “Let me buy you another, least I can do for being so clumsy. What was it?”

Hermione hesitated then heard the word coffee slip between her lips without her permission. Before she knew it he was pointing her to a table and going past her to order her a new coffee. She sat down and looked up at him when he came back and sat down in the chair opposite her with a coffee of his own. He handed her the cup with a grin.

She took it and then took a befuddled breath. “Uhm, why-”

“Am I sitting with you? I’m quite curious about what the great Hermione Granger is up to.”

“I don’t know you.”

“But we’re old school pals you and I,” he said with another grin, sipping at his coffee. “Can’t old pals catch up?” He gave her a wink and Hermione’s stomach clenched.

“I guess… are you always this forward with people you don’t know?” She picked at her muffin, ignoring the coffee he brought her, too scared to even dare drink from it. Caution never hurt anyone. Constant vigilance.

“Yes,” he said bluntly with a shrug. “I’ve heard some interesting things going around you see.”

“Listen to gossip do you?”

“Only the gossip that matters. Like having drinks with certain wizards in a well known muggle establishment,” he said very pointedly, giving her a wink over his coffee cup.

“Right.” She popped a piece of muffin in her mouth to buy herself some time. Could she somehow contact Harry without Nott noticing? “Is that gossip that’s going far?”

“Nah, I’m lucky to get the inside scoop.”

Hermione swallowed and got up. “Well this was a lovely… catch up,” she said, picking up a napkin and shoving her cake and muffin into it as quickly as she could. “Nott.” She nodded her head and then bolted out of the cafe, hoping he wasn’t following her. She only let go of her shaky breath once alone in one of the lifts. Slowly the lift filled and Hermione stepped out on her floor, heading back to her desk. She barely got to eat half of her muffin before she was pulled into a meeting. It was an interdepartmental meeting and so Hermione was taking notes minding her own goddamn business when the devil himself walked in.

“Apologies for being late, another meeting ran long.” Malfoy walked in and took an empty seat on the other end of the table. He unbuttoned his muggle jacket and leaned back in his chair, looking at the head of the DMLE who was heading the meeting. They dismissed his apology and trudged on. Hermione however, stared at his back with her quill clutched tightly between her fingers. Not only did he have the audacity to join late, but he was wearing fancy muggle attire - a three piece suit no less! He clasped his hands on the meeting table and turned a ring over and over his finger. Hermione was mesmerised by the action. Then she saw movement and glanced up, catching his eye. He smirked. The bastard. She quickly started to take notes in such an aggressive fashion that they were barely legible through the ink blots and stains across the page.

She really didn’t care though. How good he looked in that suit. Not at all. She was just fuming because he was so incredibly rude arriving late. Hermione sighed, disappointed in her own lack of explanation for the heat rising in her cheeks. She wasn’t angry at something so stupid, but at herself. The stolen glances she took, at his hands, his shoulders, the back of his head. But it wasn’t really fair was it? He could just sit there without a care in the world. He sat there so stoic, nothing could possibly make him budge and all Hermione wanted to do was ruin the perfection and expose the mess that was underneath by mussing her hands in his hair, unbuttoning that stupid vest and-

“Granger,” the head of the DMLE had said her name.

“Yes, sir?” She quickly answered, feeling that her face was burning hot.

“What have you gathered on those Grindilow eggs?”

“Well, we’ve tracked down two, as you know and we’re trying to find the rest through the first connection but it’s going slowly, sir.” She tried not to fiddle with her quill as she felt everyone’s eyes on her.

“Right, and have you written up the report for that as well as the,” he said looking at a piece of parchment in front of him. “Nifflers?”

“Ehem, yes sir,” she said, still feeling embarrassed. “We know where the Nifflers are we just need a team to go down with permission.”

“Is that paperwork ready?”

Hermione held back a sigh, remembering the every-growing pile of parchment littering her desk. “No sir.”

“Get on it.”

“Yes sir.” Hermione bent her head and took a breath, feeling everyone shift back to look to the front of the room and she chanced a look up, immediately regretting it. Malfoy was still looking at her, with that annoying smirk on his face. She wanted to punch it off. Or something else. Maybe.

The meeting ended and Hermione put away her ink-stained and unreadable notes back into the pocket of her robes, heading out behind a slow grey haired and limping wizard from the second floor.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” someone said in the hallway when she stepped out.

Hermione turned and saw the dark complexion of Blaise Zabini, leaning against the wall just outside the conference room doors.

“What is this a Slytherin convention?” Hermione huffed out in frustration.

Blaise raised an eyebrow at her as Malfoy stepped out of the doors. “Just a lunch date actually,” Malfoy said, smirking at her.

“No need to bring our old house rivalries is there Granger?” Zabini said. “Kind of prejudiced.”

“Excuse me?” Hermione said, indignant.

Zabini laughed. “So easy to rile up Granger, not changed much have you?”

“I’ll have you know, I have changed plenty,” she said through gritted teeth.

Zabini looked her up and down. “I suppose some things definitely did change.” He smirked.

Hermione shook her head, feeling a little grossed out. “It was nice seeing you again,” she said to the both of them, her tone dripping with sarcasm. Then she stormed off to go back to her office and finish the pile of paperwork on her desk. She might have to stay very late indeed.

The office floor was dark except for a small desk lamp shining bright in the cubicle farthest from the coffee machine. Hermione realised this the multiple times she had to get up and have coffee just to keep herself awake after everyone else had left. But now she was too tired to get up. Hunched over the dwindling pile of paperwork she had left, Hermione was determined to finish it. She could not go home before she was done. Again she dipped her quill into the ink and dragged the point against the paper. She squinted, finishing her signature and moving the paper into the large pile to her left. Hermione shook her head, grabbing the next piece of paper and aiming for her ink pot, the words blurring in front of her. She set the quill down in the ink as she read the top of the form.

“As article 6 subsection 24, header 14 states that all…” Hermione cleared her throat and stopped reading aloud but continuing in her head. She blinked, the words had moved. She started over.  _ As article 6 subsection 22 - _ no  _ \- 24, header 14 states that all creatures of… of… _ Hermione’s head fell on top of the parchment, slowly, but surely, she was fast asleep.

Hermione awoke with a start. She pulled the paper off her sticky forehead and set it back down. Her lamp had been turned off - how odd. She switched it back on and was about to check the time but she saw a note that had definitely not been on her desk before and stopped dead, staring at it. Next to it, where she definitely had not left it, was her quill, leaking ink onto her desk. Someone had come while she was sleeping, written a note with her own quill and left it there. Hermione quickly looked around but knew it would be futile. Just in case she quickly did a  _ homenum revelio  _ spell, which came up empty. No one else was there. She swallowed her fear and picked up the note with trembling fingers, scanning it for any trace of magic - but no luck. She checked her quill as well - nothing.

_ Ms Granger, consorting with snakes? I thought you smarter than that. Now there is even more at stake. _

On her desk there were photos, that had been placed underneath the letter. There was one of Ginny flying at Harpies practice, and another of Harry walking in Diagon Alley looking very haggard. Hermione took in a shaky breath. He was now threatening her friends.

What could she do?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Thank you for reading <3 And thank you for the lovely feedback. I originally posted this story on ffn but started getting troll reviews which were just terrible. The feedback here is so much better and lovelier. I have other stories on my account there (kete.hlin) if you want to give them a gander. Only one of them is finished though (my better half wrote some Pride and Prejudice fanfic that is incredibly popular, which you can also give a gander).


	7. The Blackmailer

Chapter 7

When Malcolm Baddock was eleven he went to Hogwarts. A long awaited milestone, and just like his parents before him he was sorted into Slytherin. He finally felt he was where he belonged. There was, however, a hierarchy - and as a first year he was on the bottom of the barrel. The head boy and girl escorted the first years down to the dungeons after the feast, telling them about the rules and the unwritten rules: Slytherins stick together. Not only did the other houses band against them so they only had each other - but even the teachers were sometimes prejudiced towards them. Malcolm felt a fierce sense of loyalty that day, not only to his fellow first year Slytherins, but to his house as a whole. From that day forward it was his duty to bring Slytherin to glory.

Sadly, his first year at Hogwarts did not allow him that luxury. House points were not as important as the Triwizard tournament which seemed to affect everything. Malcolm didn’t know what the norm was at Hogwarts, but he felt that the deviation from classes and towards the competition was a tad much. Sure it was entertaining, and making fun of Potter with everyone else was fine - but he also wanted to learn.

So he didn’t care about the drama, didn’t care about the nonsense. He had one goal - and that was to be successful. And successful people were also popular and well liked. That’s where Draco Malfoy came in. Trying to befriend a fourteen year old when you’re eleven wasn’t going to work very well. His second year however, he tried a little harder to get on Malfoy’s good side. Malcolm’s father had said how influential the Malfoy family was, a connection with them would be fantastic for anything he planned on doing in the future.

Malcolm began hanging around Malfoy, being in his general vicinity. Sitting close to him at mealtimes, hearing the conversations, listening to his interests, finding an in. Finally his chance arose. Malfoy, as part of the newly created inquisitorial squad, was complaining about Potter again and his gang, saying how Umbridge would look well on those that helped catch them in whatever rule breaking they might be doing. His frustrations lay in the fact that he hadn’t been able to catch them yet.

“You need a spy,” Malcolm said calmly. “I can help with that.”

There were doubts expressed, scoffs and eyebrows raised at this second year pretending to be a big shot. But Malcolm knew he was good at not being seen. Sure he had ambition, he wanted to succeed, wanted to be popular and well known and looked up to - but he knew with his age and short height came an advantage. He could be easily overlooked.

That’s how Malcolm got into Malfoy’s good graces, by tailing the Gryffindors in between classes. However, he quickly noticed it wasn’t just Gryffindors, but Ravenclaws and Huffelpuffs too. So he followed them. Specifically, he followed two Ravenclaw girls who seemed to spend a lot of time together (most of which they were giggling obnoxiously while gossiping). It was thanks to  _ him _ that the inquisitorial squad knew who to talk to to get the right information. It was thanks to  _ him _ that they found out about Potter’s little ‘study group’ - and yet he got no credit for his work.

The rest of the year was disappointing, though his grades were good.

Third year was more of the same, except this time Malcolm did lookout work for Malfoy. What was he looking out for? He did not know. However, he knew Malfoy had a couple of people on rotation as a lookout on the seventh floor, and though Malcolm didn’t know what he was doing - he knew Malfoy obviously did not want to get caught doing it.

Fourth year was the best time of his childhood. He was top of the food-chain. Malcolm had all the information on everyone. Some days he would answer directly to the Carrows, rewarded even for bringing other students to detentions. He relished it. The first time he got to cast an unforgivable in the classroom was such an adrenaline high he never wanted to let it go. His fingers buzzed for days afterward, as if seeking to crucio anyone who came around the corner. Sometimes he would imperio a first year, just to see if he could, see if anyone would notice. The thrill of maybe getting caught too addictive to ignore so he made games of it. He would create riddles and tasks for students, but they were boring, they were stupid. Quickly, he lost interest.

He had to put up a front nowadays, be professional. But a professional job didn’t suit Malcolm as the things he worked on at home did. No, the frenzied air of potion brewing, riddle making, and scheming could never be compared to something as frivolous as customer service. Let alone such a lowly job with muggles. Hah.

Malcolm had sought out Malfoy again after his graduation from Hogwarts, Malcolm applied for a job at Malfoy’s new company and got it - there was high demand for workers especially since not a lot of people wanted to associate themselves with the Malfoy name anymore. But Malcolm had grander plans than healing potions for muggles.

Much grander plans.

Sadly, for a measly theft he was sacked and banned from the premises. However, such bans were no match for his wits. Malfoy may be smart, but he was never a spy. He was never the person in the know, was he?

No, after that day Malcolm transformed himself. He needed to not only blend in (which came to him naturally), but also stand out. From then on he made his business in blackmail, and what a thriving business it was indeed. Everyone had something to hide, something to protect and would pay handsomely when threatened.

It all worked out so well.

He had a foolproof system, with a blend of magical and muggle techniques no one was ever able to find out who he was.

Then the opportunity presented itself for revenge - to get back at Malfoy - in the form of one Hermione Granger. Malcolm hadn’t expected it to be so easy to blackmail Granger, in all honesty he had expected a bit more from the woman who had all those formidable stories about her. But, everyone was human at the end of the day, and everyone had secrets to exploit.

Malcolm didn’t even care he wasn’t getting money out of the deal, he had loads of that already from his other business endeavors, this bit of blackmail was for fun. He got to watch as Malfoy ruined himself - he wished he could be there in person when he sent those pictures of him with Potter’s best friend bare-chested in front of him. The look on Malfoy’s face would be priceless. He wondered how much he could demand off him, what price he would pay for those pictures not to leak. The noble Malfoy heir sullying himself with a mudblood? There would be a scandal among the wizarding elites. Not to mention if he did release the pictures to the press the scandal on Granger’s name would be even juicier.

Yes, Malcolm thrived on blackmail and this would be his most successful and enjoyable scam yet.

** ** ** ** ** ** ** **

Hermione awoke with a knot of guilt in her stomach. She followed her morning routine in her head as she lay in bed and decided that being productive wasn’t going to happen today. So instead she grabbed a book off her nightstand and read for an hour before her stomach started protesting. She grabbed a robe and wrapped it around her pyjama-clad body and descended to the kitchen of Grimmauld Place. With a wave of her wand the kettle started to boil and seconds after it made a loud noise Kreacher appeared along with a plate of breakfast on the table. Hermione thanked the elf and prepared her tea.

After breakfast she needed a fresh perspective.

Ginny stepped through the floo with a duffel bag slung over her shoulder. She flung it on the floor and sat down in the sofa opposite Hermione who was folded in on herself, clutching an empty teacup.

“What’s wrong?”

“I just need a bit of girl talk,” Hermione said, then she gestured to the bag. “You have practice later?”

“Yeah, we have a game in a couple of days, I’d like it if you came.”

“I’ll make sure to attend.”

“Thank you,” Ginny said and leaned back on the sofa. “So, what happened that you want some girl talk?”

“Well…” she hedged. “It’s about Malfoy, actually.”

“Oh?”

“Well I almost… uhm… you know, with him. Twice.”

“You almost?”

Hermione nodded, leaning over to set her teacup down on the coffee table. Then she went into explaining what had happened between her and Malfoy, recalling their little seduction game.

“So, what I need to know is - how crazy am I?”

Ginny shook her head. “You’re not crazy for enjoying being seduced.”

“But it’s-”

“Malfoy? Hermione, I don’t know if you’ve noticed but Malfoy is hot. Like, another level hot. Not to mention he has the bad-boy thing going for him, so you’re not being crazy you’re just being normal, for once.”

Hermione chuckled. “It doesn’t feel like it though. It feels weird. To want him.”

Ginny nodded. “Lust is pretty powerful, sexual tension even more so. Plus what you guys did, it sounds really hot actually.”

She blushed. “I’ve never really talked dirty like that before, it was intimidating but also… really rewarding.”

“I bet,” Ginny said with a cheeky grin.

“I can’t stop thinking about it, and I know I’m insatiably curious but how do I separate that obsessive behaviour with actual feelings? How can I know what is just me being curious and needing to know about this different way of exploring my sexuality - and what is me genuinely having feelings for Malfoy?”

“Hmm, well your mind is especially tricky, but didn’t you say that he stopped before you actually did anything?”

“Yeah… and then it all went… wrong.” She sighed. “I don’t know Ginny it’s all really messy.”

Ginny looked at her for a moment and then her whole body shivered. “Okay look, as much as I hate asking this - and I do, I really really do - but did you feel sexually satisfied in your last relationship?”

“Ginny!” Hermione picked up a pillow and covered her reddening face with it, she groaned.

“I don’t want to talk about it either, but I need to ask Hermione,” Ginny said, pulling the pillow away from her face.

“It was perfectly satisfactory,” Hermione said, the blush spreading all the way to her chest at speaking about her sexual relationship with Ginny’s brother. Yuck.

“But it wasn’t earth-shattering, it wasn’t life changing?”

Hermione scoffed. “It’s just sex Ginny. It’s not like jumping out of a plane.”

“See, that’s where I think the problem lies. I don’t really see my-... your ex being very adventurous. So this new territory that Malfoy has opened up to you is exciting. So yes, some of it is your insatiable curiosity - and that’s not a bad thing. You should totally explore your sexuality and what you might like. Who knows, maybe you have a kink or a fetish even you didn’t know about. But, and this is the crux of the matter, you can’t use him to learn about your sexual desires if you’re being blackmailed. That’s just morally wrong.”

Hermione groaned. “Ugh, you’re right. It’s such a weird situation. So, what do I do?”

“Go to Malfoy.” Hermione groaned. “No, Hermione, I’m serious. Just be honest. Go to him and say - hey wank-stain, I think you’re hot and I want to jump your bones but it’s like all in the name of science, also I’m being blackmailed to seduce you, any idea who it might be?”

“That would be the worlds weirdest and awkwardest conversation ever.” Hermione pointed out.

“I’m sure you can figure out a better way to phrase it, if you don’t like jumping his bones there’s always climbing him like a tree, ravaging him, satisfying your needs.” Ginny ticked each new phrase on her fingers.

“Thank you!” Hermione said, grabbing her hand so she’d stop. “That’s quite enough.”

“Communication is key,” Ginny said with a shrug. “Maybe you don’t want a relationship with Malfoy, but having casual sex is okay. It’s not as taboo as you might believe.”

“Right.” She sighed and rubbed at her face. “I guess I should try to talk to him.”

“You should,” Ginny agreed, standing up and picking up her bag. “I gotta go, let me know how it goes?”

Hermione nodded. “Thank you for the girl talk.”

“Anytime.”

They stood and hugged before Ginny left. Then Hermione went back up to her room and got dressed. She tried to catch up on some work to procrastinate what she knew she should be preparing for. What she would say to Malfoy.

In the end she decided that she would come clean about the blackmail, make it very clear that she hadn’t intended to lead him on except to follow her blackmailers instructions - which wasn’t good anyway. Gods she dreaded this. It was going to be awful. He might not even want to talk to her after this and then she might be putting her parents’ lives and her friends’ lives in danger.

Deciding she wanted to go the professional route she contacted Malfoy’s company, asking if she could have a meeting with him. The person she spoke to was incredibly nice and helpful, even telling her that he should be in his wizarding branch office at this very moment and she could probably go there now as he had no scheduled meetings. Hermione put her hair up in a bun, donned a suit and skirt ensemble that made her feel confident but suitably professional for the occasion and left to Malfoy’s company in wizarding London.

The office space was strangely welcoming, white walls and lime green lines leading towards the company logo above the welcome desk. Hermione spoke to the receptionist and was pointed in the direction of Malfoy’s office. Just outside it she took a deep breath to steel her nerves and calm her shaking hand, then she knocked twice on the door and waited.

“Come in,” came his perfunctory reply.

Hermione pushed the door open and then closed it behind her. Malfoy stood at the other side of his desk, looking down at a stack of papers, as he looked up it seemed he was expecting anyone except her because when their eyes met his whole face changed. He was scowling.

“Is this some kind of joke?”

“Wh-what?” Hermione was caught off guard.

“Is this your idea of a joke?” Malfoy picked up a piece of parchment off his desk and waved it at her. She couldn’t see anything except the back which was addressed to him. “Think you’re being clever?”

“I don’t…” She shook her head. “What are you talking about?”

“You know there are a lot of people I would have expected this from,” he said, dropping the letter back on his desk and glaring at her. “But I would never have thought you would stoop so low.”

Her breath caught in her throat. He knew?

“Malfoy you have to listen to me, I didn’t plan to hurt you-”

He let out a vicious laugh. “Hurt me? You don’t think your actions have already done that? I never thought you’d be so despicable.”

“Malfoy-”

“Leave.”

Hermione faltered, stuck in a limbo between following through with his request (which would be the right thing to do) or going against it (which would be rude). But there were things she needed to say.

“Malfoy please listen to me,” she pleaded, taking a step closer.

“I have no interest in hearing it.”

“I had to okay? My parents were being threatened if I didn’t so I had to do it - I’m sorry. I really am so sorry, and I was coming here to tell you about it-”

He held up his hand to stop her. “Wait go back and say that again.”

“I’m sorry-”

“No, not that, about you being threatened.”

She was caught off guard. “I’m being blackmailed and they threatened to hurt my parents.”

He seemed genuinely surprised, then his cheek twitched and he looked back down at his desk.

“That’s… not what you were talking about,” she said, realising and stepping closer.

“No,” he said and looked back up at her. “I am also being blackmailed.”

Hermione stepped forward and took the letter he was handing to her, at the bottom were copies of pictures. She gasped, it was her pushed up against a bookshelf, with Draco’s head covering her very exposed chest. Her eyes flitted up to the top of the letter.

_ I wonder what would happen if this went circulating in the press _

Hermione shivered with disgust. This had to be the same blackmailer. It had to be.

_ Do as I ask and your reputation won’t be ruined. _

She swallowed and looked up at Malfoy. He had thought she was blackmailing him. At the bottom of the page it said:  _ I’ll be in touch _ .

“I received that an hour ago by owl post,” Malfoy said, everything about him stiff and rigid. “The only person I knew to be there at the time was you so, naturally…”

Hermione swallowed and nodded, putting the letter back down on his desk. She wondered why she wasn’t being blackmailed with this as well, these were practically nude photos of her. “He sent me a letter last night after I left yours… saying he was disappointed I left because he was ‘enjoying the show’.” She grimaced and glanced up at Malfoy.

“How long has he been blackmailing you for?”

She hesitated. “A week and a bit.”

Malfoy furrowed his brow. “What were you to do?”

“Seduce you,” she said, looking at him for a reaction. His head snapped up to her face, to scrutinise it for truths.

“To what end?”

“He said you had something valuable behind blood wards and I would have to marry you within four weeks to retrieve it.”

Malfoy barked out a laugh. “What a joke.” He sat down in his chair and cupped his chin, deep in thought.

“What?”

Malfoy shook his head. “The things I have locked up by blood wards are not of any value to anyone except myself. You were tricked. Not to mention I would have never married someone after meeting them for only four weeks. The blackmailer gave you an impossible task to humiliate you.”

Hermione stood there and gaped at him. “So his threats… are they false?”

Malfoy shrugged. “I don’t know, do I? He has the ammunition to expose what we were doing behind closed doors and he has no reason not to leak these photos. Especially now after you’ve told me what he’s doing.” He shook his head. “What he wants in the long run is anyone’s guess.”

“Harry thinks he might be someone who worked for you, someone that maybe got fired or harbours a secret hatred for you.”

Malfoy rolled his eyes. “He can get in line. What surprises me is he isn’t after anything, he makes no demands. This is personal. He has a personal vendetta against me and wants to enjoy seeing me suffer.” He picked up the letter again, staring at the pictures at the bottom and Hermione wished he wouldn’t.

“How did he get these?” He mused aloud. “The angle of them…” He set it back down and stared off into space.

“He probably used a muggle device, but I don’t know how he could have gotten into your study. That photo looks like it was taken from the inside of the room.”

“Mmm” he said, deep in thought, still staring at the picture.

“Could you maybe… stop looking at it?” Hermione asked with a blush.

Malfoy looked up, eyebrow cocked. “Does it make you uncomfortable Granger? Why, because a sociopath has them or because it’s my eyes looking at them? You do recall I was there and I can bring up the image myself without the aid of a blackmailer’s photos?”

She swallowed. “Well uhm,” her blush crept up her face. “I guess when you put it like that.”

Malfoy shook his head. “Why did you come here then? To come clean, was it?”

“Well… yes,” she said, wringing her hands in front of her. “Yes,” she said more decisively, deciding against talking about her sexuality with Malfoy when there were more pressing matters to focus on. “We should probably talk to Harry about this-”

“Potter?” He groaned, loudly, and petulantly. “Really, I have to talk to sodding Potter about this? Fantastic.”

Hermione huffed. “It’s hardly that bad, Harry is very professional-”

Malfoy looked at her sceptically, then his eyes narrowed and she cowered under his gaze. “What?” She asked.

“He already knows doesn’t he? You told fucking Potter about you being blackmailed. Did he help you pick an outfit by any chance? Hey, Potter, does this outfit look good for me to be fucked in?”

Hermione winced. “No,” she said, indignant. “And there’s no need to be such an arse Malfoy.” She shook her head, wondering how on earth she had thought she might fancy this man-child. “I told him, yes, because my family was being threatened and I felt backed into a corner. He’s a very skilled Auror - whether you believe it or not,” she added at his eye-roll. “And I trust him. You should make a list of all employees you’ve fired and currently have.”

“That could be hundreds.”

“Then you better start soon.” She crossed her arms and watched as his lips pursed.

“Fine, whatever. But after this, when Potter finds whoever has done this, then no more. I don’t want to have to see Potter’s stupid scar-face ever again.”

Hermione opened her mouth but then shut it, reading the double meaning behind his words. He didn’t want to have to see her again either.  _ Then no more _ . That was a good thing right? She wouldn’t have to deal with his annoying Malfoy-ness any longer or have to listen to him whine about Harry.

Yeah, this was a good thing.

Hermione turned around and left his office.

The best thing really.

So why did she have knots in her stomach?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi lovely readers! I hope you enjoyed this chapter and please comment anything your heart desires ♥ I love reading them. What did you think of this chapter?


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